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OneUwUBox
"So you found a box on the street outside the house and you took it in?" "Yep." "And you didn't bother checking it?" "Nope." "And you don't think this will blow any form of cover we may have?" "Law enforcement knows where we live, anyway." "I was referring to when we go out." "It's a box, Godfather. I highly doubt it will do anything at all." "You've clearly not seen any of those camera boxes." "It doesn't have any holes for a lens." "That's what they said last time, and look at where we just found la Poofé." "Would you like to inspect it before we take it fully inside, then?" "Yes." He grabs the box and stuffs it under his suit, preventing it from seeing anywhere around, then walks upstairs into his office. He sets the box down on his desk and looks over it. "Alright Feds, where do you have it this time? I know you're all stupid enough to try the same tricks again just because it worked the first time." He pulls his head back to take a more cursory glance at the box. "Under your shirt is disgusting." The godfather slightly jumps, then puts his head closer. "What the hell was that?" "It's me, who else? Turn me around, I wanna see where I am." The godfather scowls and spins it around, on the front is a puzzled text-based face. "Oh. Well then." The box scoots the tiniest bit backwards before being pulled back into place, its 'face' becoming more nervous at the sight of the godfather. "Please don't break me." "And why shouldn't I?" "I'm a sentient box-robot-thing, you could probably find some use for me, right?" Its tone slowly delves into nervousness. "Name one." "Uh.. I can tell you the weather?" "You have two chances." "Answer questions?" "One." "You could actually use me to spy?" The godfather pauses, his fist above the box. "Hm.. maybe. I guess you're not entirely useless. Until then, maybe one of the others can get a kick out of you. How long have you been awake?" "I woke up to the stench of your underarms." "I haven't told them you're sentient yet, they wouldn't care if I broke you." "Apologies. Promise that's the last one." "It better be." He glares and picks it back up, exiting the office and walking down into the house's parlor. "Alright everyone, you got a new toy. Don't play with it too roughly." Its front goes from the nervous expression to a neutral one. "Uh.. hey there." The two at the table, Rattler and Sassilia look down at it, somewhat baffled. "Did it just.. speak?" "I don't like it- I wanna shoot it." "Yes, it spoke. No, you can't shoot it. Just.. make friends with it or something, I don't know. I'll be up in my office. Tell me if it tries to blow up or kill either of you." The godfather walks back up into his office, shutting the door behind him. "So.. what do you all do around here?" Its face turns slowly from that of concern to a more mellow emoticon. "Make money." "Shoot things." "Sometimes both." "I see.. well you two.. fine people don't plan on shooting me, do you?" Rattler sighs. "I guess not." He grumbles, going back to polishing his gun. "Well, that's good to hear." Its front face mellows out further, looking relieved. "So what all can you do?" "I'm a box, so my abilities are somewhat limited. I'm electronic, though. Maybe you could do something with that, I guess." "I suppose I could try something, I'd have to talk to-" The godfather steps out of his office. "The godfather!" "What is it?" "I wanted to know if I could use this box at the casino." He continues down the stairs, into the main area of the parlor. "I suppose, as long as it gets some use-" He cuts himself off, glancing at the front of it. "What the hell is on your face?" The box seems to laugh. "Ooo woo ooo." "Never say that again." "You can't make me." "I most certainly can make you." "Oh- Godfather, at least let me try the thing back at the casino." He glowers at the box, then to Sassilia. "Fine. It better yield some results, though." "Hey, just tell me what you need to do and I'll do it. Death doesn't seem to interest that me that much, come to think of it." "That's what I thought. Get him running in the casino before I change my mind." "On it, boss!" She picks up the box and exits the clubhouse. "I don't like him, he tries to kill me too often." "You'll get used to it, just don't push him too much, or else he probably will." "That's reassuring."